


31 Days of Porn, Uglywettie Style - Day #10

by UglyWettieWrites



Series: 31 Days of Porn, Uglywettie Style [3]
Category: David Tennant - Fandom
Genre: David Tennant - Freeform, F/M, Fucking The Pain Away, Never trust the fae, Other, Paranormal, So much better than the ghost of Christmas present, The Spirit of Righteous Vengeance - Freeform, magical sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 13:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10877949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UglyWettieWrites/pseuds/UglyWettieWrites
Summary: After a year and a half of solid sorrow over her husband's unfaithfulness and the loss of her children, a handsome, puckish spirit appears to Mony on Christmas Eve, promising an end to her suffering.





	31 Days of Porn, Uglywettie Style - Day #10

She hugged her pillow.

God I hate Christmas, she thought, and starting weeping softly. It was awful, and the forced good cheer she was subjected to just made her feel guilt on top of the sorrow that assailed her.

She loved her friends, but she missed her family. Try as they might to replace them, it only made the pain worse to see them coming together around her, eyes limpid with sympathy. It was a fucking nightmare. She should’ve gone to India. Russia. Turkey. Anywhere she didn’t have to be faced with peace on earth and good will towards men.

She got on her back and lay spread eagle in her too large bed. She could buy another, but beds were expensive. In any case, it was new. She wasn’t gonna drop 1500 dollars out of spite.

She wondered what they might be doing. Having a tropical drink with an umbrella? Having a morning dip on the beach? Opening their first gift?

On the skype call, they had been far too excited to linger long, and besides, they were in paradise. Why would they want to talk to her?

He was curt with her, giving her a cursory greeting before turning the phone over to the kids. _Her_ kids, that he saw fit to take them away when he left. But such is life.

Worst part? He looked amazing. She missed him.

Her hand slid into her panties, and she rubbed her clit. She was wet, but it felt like rubbing warm, lifeless stone. He’d taken everything.

The pill she’d chased down with a glass of red wine began to take effect. The edges of her vision buckled, warping the corners of the room like a fun house mirror. Nausea made her close her eyes.

_Merry cocksucking motherfucking Christmas to you, you silly bitch._

_Woohoo._

She slept.

* * *

 She felt a chill.

She moaned softly and tried to pull her blanket back up... but it wasn’t there. She sat up and felt around, but her bed was duvet-free.

She turned on her side and rolled herself into a fetal ball. Despite the cold, she was sinking back into oblivion.

**OOOooooOOOoooo**

It was a quiet moan. In her drug-induced torpor, she wondered whether it came from her own mouth. She moaned when she was really tired. She decided it was her, and turned to face the wall.

 **Booohhooooohhhoo.. _ahem_.** It was a man, clearing his throat.

She jumped up. Her room was very dark, but there was a bluish glow hovering at the corner by the door. She reached underneath her bed quickly and came up with a metal bat. “If someone’s there, I’ve got a gun and believe strongly in the death penalty,” she yelled, kneeling on her bed.

The glow intensified, and to her bemusement something, or better said, someone, stepped into her bedroom.

“Jesus, Mony, you think you could put that thing down?”

She dropped the bat on the bed and shrugged.

“Fuck right off. This is a drug dream. I finally mixed the wrong pill with the wrong wine, and I’m currently seizing or something.” She shoved her head in a pillow.

The apparition seemed upset by her reaction.

He put his arms up and struck a dramatic pose. “Behold, for I bring tidings of great joy,” he said, then dissolved into giggles.

She looked up. “So now I’m dreaming of angels? Don’t tell me you’re my guardian angel, here to show me the true meaning of Christmas or some horseshitting bollocks like that.”

He giggled again, then sat on the bed. Although she could see through his form, his weight still bowed the mattress.

That seemed to rouse her, and she screamed. Loudly.

He screamed back, just as frightened.

They both screamed together. She jumped off the bed and ran into her living room. Everything was dark, and there was nary a Christmas decoration in sight. She panted and looked toward the bedroom. The hallway was empty and silent. When she turned back, he stood right in front of her.

She tried to push him, and fell through him and to the floor. She screamed again, kicking the air like a cat on its back. Her hair stood on end, since his energy made her skin crackle with electricity. Falling through him had not been without resistance - it felt like she’d fallen through water, then to the floor.

“I’m dead. I’m dead, then. That’s it. RIP me. Gone.” She was terrified.

He gave her an irritated looked. “You’re very much alive. An irritatingly lively,” he said. He kicked her leg softly with a glossy boot. “You gonna let me do my spiel? Because time’s a wastin’. Morning’s coming.”

“Morning’s coming,” she repeated, rolling her eyes. She lay on her cold floor, reluctant to indulge her own psychosis, but she was curious. “What happens in the morning?”

“I have to go back. Spirits are like vampires. Light saps our energy.”

She chuckled. “Vampires. Let me guess. They exist just like you do?”

“Yeah, but they’re not what you think. In any case, they wouldn’t get anywhere near you,” he said, bending over to sniff her delicately. “You smell like closing time at the Cock in Cider.”

She laughed sardonically. “You’ve got jokes. How droll.”

He shrugged and offered his hand. Surprisingly, he was no longer transparent. He looked quite there. She sighed, and took it. He lifted her easily to her feet. In fact, seemingly without any effort, he nearly pulled her to the ceiling.

She shook her head. It couldn’t be real. She was dreaming.

“You’re not dreaming,” he said, walking to the kitchen to check for tasty holiday treats.

“Fuck, you don't even have a tender bit of shortbread around? It’s the bloody holiday season. What kind of Scot are you?” He looked genuinely disgusted.

“I’m not Scottish, he was. Or is. And I hate that cunting shite. Doesn’t taste like anything.”

“What a mouth you have,” he said, opening her cabinets. He found a box of Swedish oat crisps and dug into it. She stared.

“Don’t spirits, um, not eat?”

He shrugged.”I get special dispensation. My senses are very important to my line of work,” he said. He threw the empty box over his shoulder and slapped the crumbs from the front of his military style jacket. “Not Scottish, but they did the job.”

“Right,” she said. “What’s your line of work then?”

“I’ll tell you my name instead.” He put out his hand. “Elthrazor, the spirit of righteous vengeance.”

“Elthrazor. You come from Middle Earth?” she said, staring up at him. He was rather tall. And Elvish, except for the scruff and lack of pointy ears. She rolled her eyes. She’d finally cracked. She was going to the looney bin and she’d spend the rest of her days there, loooloooloooing between her doses to pass the time.

He poked her chest.

“Fucking ouch!” she said, slapping at his hand.

“That really hurt, then?” he asked.

She rubbed between her breasts, pouting. “Yeah.”

“Real pain. Real you, and more importantly, real me,” he said, passing her by. Although they were inside, he smelled like the back of the wind.

“Were you once human?”

He laughed hard. Bent over, holding his flat belly. There was a breathy musicality to it that wasn’t in the human register. Also, every time he came near to her, her nipples ached with his energy.

“I never,” he said emphatically. “I have a great affection for you and enjoy some of your pastimes, but no, I was not, am not, and will never be human.”

She walked back to her bedroom. The skin between her breasts throbbed with his jab, but she still couldn’t process what was happening. Perhaps, if she went back to bed-

He stood in front of her, barring the door to her bedroom. “Are you gonna let me talk?”

“I want to go back to bed,” she said, trying to pull him out of the way. He was immovable as stone. His hands were hot, and their human male shape set off something in her long-dormant limbic system.

“When’s the last time you had a proper fuck? You know, a 'make the walls sweat can’t walk right hurts to wipe stay wet for hours afterward' fuck?”

She leaned against the wall and hugged herself. “This is nothing like any ghost story I’ve ever read,” she said, closing her eyes. He sensed enormous pain flowing from her at his words. She was wide open. He sipped her energy and became stronger, more solid.

“I’m not a ghost,” he said. “I was never human, remember? Now back to the question. When was-”

She interrupted. “Not since I found out he’d been fucking his boss at work.” She shivered with revulsion and pain. “It makes my skin crawl.”

“Which brings me to the reason why I’m here,” he said, leaning opposite her, his arms crossed. She realized she liked his demeanor, fantasy or not.

“Do tell.”

“Quite easy. You called me.”

“I might’ve been a bit drunk, but I don’t remember blacking out and performing any summoning spells, as one does.”

“Yeah, those don’t work on me. They work on low tier hobgoblins gasping for a bit of fun with foolish humans who spent too much at Borders buying mass produced ‘magic books’. I cannot be _summoned_ , even by the most powerful magician. I pick who I wish to appear to.”

He was very proud of it.

“Okay.”

It was anticlimactic.

“You are lovely, but dense, woman! I wield the power to wreak havoc on the lives of those who have wronged you! Raze! Destroy!”

“Why?” she said flatly.

“Because I like you, and you deserve better,” he said, finally walking into her bedroom. He picked up the duvet on the floor and threw it on the bed.

“Many people deserve better. Why don’t you help some sick little kid? Or a person whose loved one has been murdered? I’ll be fine.”

“In time. But it’s your turn tonight,” he said, sitting in her bed again. He was the first man in her bed since her ex husband. He took off his jacket and leaned back. He was slim hipped and long limbed. She took a step forward.

“My turn for what?”

“To get what you deserve,” he said, raising his eyebrow. His pupils shimmered like candlelight. He wasn’t human. He wasn’t a dream. Her hair stood on end, and her skin spit sparks as she got closer. Everything that could be hard was hard. Everything that could be wetter was wetter.

She wiped a tear from her eye.

“Are you going to take me away?”

“Only for tonight,” he said, grabbing her wrist. She arched and cried out. Electricity. Enough to make white light burst behind her closed lids. At first, it was a tingle that settled into pleasure like mist melting into her skin.

She couldn’t speak, but she let out a keening cry. It was a year and a half of sexual frustration and despair. Behind the pain, came another wave of pleasure.

It slammed into her so viscerally that she flew back onto the bed, writhing.

What her husband had taken away, Elthrazor had given back to her, three times over.

“That’s it,” he said, over her. His hand, so warm, so gentle, caressed the tears from her eyes. “Let the poison flow from you.” He pressed his lips to her cheeks to kiss. She sighed, daring to put her hand on his neck. 

He sucked her tears off her cheeks and lips, moaning erotically.

“So good,” he said. He shivered.

His weight on her her chest made her legs open wide. Her heart beat fast and light. The pain was fading.

“Before we continue, I can make the pain go away completely. You will not forget him, but the love you felt will be gone.”

“Completely?” she said, disbelieving.

“There will be no traces of affection with anything having to do with him.”

“And what about the children?”

“If you want them, by the end of the night, they will be on their way to you.”

“Yes. What do I have to do? I’ve watched movies, read books...”

He sighed. “Again, I’m not a goblin. It doesn’t work that way. I want to do it, so I do, if you let me.”

He pressed himself against her. A breathless tight electrified feeling gathered in her belly.

“What precisely are you talking about?”

“The righteous vengeance, of course.”

Something large, hot, and heavy pressed on her hip. She reached down to touch it. It was a cock. A huge one, and ready.

“I didn’t know spirits had cocks,” she said. It was surreal, but her cunt, long empty, seemed to give off a train whistle scream in her head.

She wanted to be filled. Needed to.

“Like I said, there are specialized elements to my occupation,” he said.

Her pajamas just disappeared. He licked her from her belly button to her chest, to the bruise he gave her. He kissed it, and the ache faded.

He sniffed at her, then licked up her neck to her mouth. He kissed her, hard, sucking the breath from her lungs with his hunger. He was in her head. Memories knocked about like dice in a cup, flashing color and warmth, then fading.

He came up to give her time to breathe.

Her legs were wrapped around him and his cock was pressed against her lower belly. He was solid, but not heavy on her chest. It was almost disconcerting.

He ground into her, making her once stone dead clit burn red hot.

“I need to, um, fuck the rest out,” he said. “Kisses are not enough. Not for a 13 year marriage.”

“If you keep making me feel what I’m feeling, you can do whatever you like,” she said.

“I didn’t give you something you didn’t already have, Mony. Just...reminded you. Just because he no longer desires you, it doesn’t mean that you aren’t still absolutely delectable,” he said. He surrounded her in a warm ochre aura. They floated over the bed. He laced his fingers through hers. “You ready to fuck shit up?”

“Always,” she said. He sank into her. She arched underneath him, letting out a long sigh.

> They were sitting in a cabana on a turquoise beach. He wore a loud shirt with dancing pineapples. She was in a gold bikini.
> 
> “Look,” he said, pointing. It was her. Cynthia Reese, the senior partner in Manny’s law firm. The other woman. She was blonde and slim and had the slow, meandering walk of the born rich. She got into the water to her waist and splashed around gracefully for his gaze. He, tanned brown as a nut and beautiful, waved lazily at her.
> 
> “This is bullshit. Is this like Bedazzled, where I wish for something and it always goes to shit? Are you the-”
> 
> Cynthia screamed and ran limping out of the water. Her thigh was swelling fast. There were slashes of tender pink, like she’d been scraped.
> 
> It was a jellyfish sting - a bad one, by the look of it.
> 
> Manny ran to her. He tried to touch it, but she slapped him with all she had and ran a couple of steps before crumbling to the sand.
> 
> He gesticulated, pointing at his crotch, then at her thigh. She shook her head emphatically.
> 
> Mony looked at the creature beside her. He was laughing his head off.
> 
> “A jellyfish sting? Your awesome cosmic powers are blowing my mind,” she said, standing up. “It is kinda funny though.”
> 
> He winked and took her hand. They materialized neatly into a shitty clinic room. Manny's voice echoed with anger in the hallway just outside.
> 
> “For Chrissakes, we’re rich. Up until this point, we’ve had no issues whatsoever using this card.”
> 
> He was on the phone with the firm.
> 
> “Sir, it is a company credit card, and all of Miss Reese’s assets have been frozen due to a pending FBI investigation into her firms’s involvement with the Russian mafia. We are all fucked, so I find it very hard to feel sympathetic for your ruined vacation,” the woman said.
> 
> “You must be mistaken.” He went white as a sheet.
> 
> “Apparently, they are not. They are dismantling and taking away the server as we speak. Merry fucking Christmas to you,” she said, and hung up in his ear.
> 
> Elthrazor looked at her, raising an eyebrow.
> 
> “Wow,” she said. “That’s grim.”
> 
> He looped his arm around hers. “But wait. There’s more!”
> 
> They appeared in the bullpen of what looked like an FBI office. The place smelled of stale coffee and stress sweat.
> 
> “Apparently, it goes even deeper that we imagined, “ a portly man in a black suit said to the small group of people gathered. “It turns out that the Russian mafia are using shell companies set up by Reese’s firm to run a white slavery trade spanning three continents. It’s a shit show of epic proportions.” He shook his head.
> 
> Elthrazor bounced happily beside her, clapping his hands.
> 
> “What he just said. Is it true?”
> 
> He looked at her, his smile grown predatory. He had too many teeth for a human mouth. “It’s the highest compliment. 'A shit show of epic proportions.' I’m gonna use that,” he said, a bit distracted by his own success.
> 
> She shook his arm. “Is it true? That Cynthia was doing that?”
> 
> He nodded his head. “It was Manny’s connections, though. He convinced her.”
> 
> Her mouth dropped open. The man she loved, a filthy, greedy, grasping bastard. She expected to feel anger and pain swell in her chest, but nothing happened.
> 
> It was totally believable. How else could he have humiliated her, taken her kids and threatened her livelihood?
> 
> “This isn’t some kind of alternate universe, right? Did you cause this?”
> 
> Elthrazor’s brown eyes danced. “No. Every bad thing you do, every deliberate evil act holds a seed to your undoing. Every single sin. It’s what keeps balance in the world. In some cases, it never germinates and the bad guy gets away. In this case, it’s a bumper crop. I just...watered it. But it’s all their doing, I swear.”
> 
> “I want to go home,” she said, turning her back on the tableau.
> 
> “Just as well. We’re about done.” He took her hand.

She was on her bed, sweaty, panting, and tingling with the echoes of an orgasm. He sat beside her, naked and smiling.

He ran his hand up her thigh, then licked his palm. “You’re clean as a whistle, love. Clear as crystal.”

She could breathe. Deeply, without hurting. It was the first thing she noticed. She rolled out bed and stretched. Her body didn’t ache, despite the sex.

And she was hungry. Starving.

She walked to the kitchen, still nude, and opened the fridge. He appeared as she prepared some cheese and crackers.

“You’re humming,” he said. He was fully dressed again.

“I am,” she said.

She walked to the living room and sat down at her computer, turning it on for the first time in months. Her eyes drifted to a photo of a boy and a girl. She cocked her head and plucked it from the side of the monitor.

“My kids.”

He put his chin on her shoulder. “Your kids.” 

Just hours ago, just thinking about them would make her weep. Now, she felt nothing. She knew they were her children, but she felt no concomitant affection. Everything having to do with Manny had been swept away. Everything. Love potential energy was three times as powerful as pain, and it would keep Elthrazor going for 100 years, even if he chose not to work. He wasn’t exactly forthright about the side effects of the spell, but it didn’t matter. She could not mourn what she no longer missed. It was a victimless crime. 

Kind of.

“They’re safe?”

“Per Manny’s request, they were going to go to his sister if something happened. And something has definitely happened.”

She had been absolutely heartbroken about that. How could she not have gotten custody of her kids, at least in the case of emergency? But he had been cruel.

But now, she nodded. “I think that’s best. I’ve got a lot of work to do,” she said, turning on the word processor. “Suddenly, I’m bursting with ideas.”


End file.
